Dance of the Unicorns
Sand breezed by and a white figure stood, gazing longingly over the land it had once called home. Red eyes tear up as they swept the sand dunes and a sweet laugh erupted from those pale pink lips.
The body twirled, white hair following its movements as the child of Khemet danced in utter joy of being home. Twisting and swaying over the soil where it's hometown used to stand proudly, where the whole episode of hate and sorrow began, where the figure now danced now that it was all over.
Five thousand years of sorrow, five thousand years of hate.
All those years to remember the massacre of his village, his friends and family. Ninety-nine sacrifices to create those seven 'Holy Items' to protect Khemet, and the rest of the village to be silenced forever and to never speak of what had happened. Only a small boy, hiding in the ruins was left and forgotten. He grew up to take on the family name of 'Thief King' and challenge the world. In a failed attempt to take revenge on the one responsible for his family's death, only to have his soul forced into one of those items created from his families blood and to live on as a spirit. He was found after thousands of years and handed to a small boy as a gift, whom he taunted and broke.
He spend years hunting down the spirit of the Pharaoh whom he'd set his life on to kill. He wasn't the only one out there for the Pharaoh's blood; there was a young Egyptian by the name a Malik whose family was forced to serve the long gone Pharaoh for centuries. They teamed up but things didn't work out and the silverette was betrayed by the young blonde.
In one last shot to avenge his family, the Thief King confronted the Pharaoh.
Using the Millennium items, he forced the Pharaoh and himself into a memory world of their past when they were alive. Reliving the events that happened five thousand years ago, only he could change what he did and learn from his mistakes. He picked off the six priests one by one, collecting the items. Finally he waited in the ritual chambers under his village, knowing the Pharaoh would come for him and challenge him on his own. The souls of his family floating around him protectively, hoping for their time of rest to finally come to both them and the thief.
With a betrayal from his last priest, the Pharaoh was brought to his knees and weakened. That's when the spirits of Kul Elna finally struck, diving in and consuming the Pharaoh's once strong soul.
It left the thief waking up in the present, grinning in realisation. He'd finally won…
He'd finally made his way home; it was buried deep in the sand. What happened to his host? The boy's mind was crushed and shattered under his constant presence, he owned this body now, and he could do as he wished. The boy had been a symbol of white, of purity, but he didn't care. He took over the fragile body.
Bell like laughter pierced the cold night skies and twirling until his eyesight blurred, Bakura laughed and laughed until his voice was raw and he danced happily until his limbs were sore and couldn't hold him up anymore. His legs filling with fire, his heart, his laughter. He slumped to the ground and laughing and grinning at the skies, hoping the Gods would see his dance, would hear his laughter. Would the Gods hear him now? Would then listen to his opinion? No, they wouldn't, they despised him like so many others had.
For so long he'd been cursed, thrown away like a piece of dirt, rebutted. After all that he'd done, for his village his people and his family. What he'd done to avenge their sudden and brutal murder, the Pharaoh was dead, his Priests were dead and yet here he sat; still the Gods would turn away from him with a cold indifference. Ra didn't shine on him like it did for the others of Khemet; instead it burned into him with hate. The moon was pale and the stars didn't shine for him and the wind bit at him like ice.
But he laughed, he sat there and took it knowing he was free and so was Kul Elna.
The winds picked up, like they were angry at his calm and carefree feeling. They wiped up the sands and bit at his skin, but he simply smiled as a storm of sand headed straight towards him. Laughing one last time he tilted his head back and grinned at the heavens.
"You just can't stand it can you?" He called out to the Gods. "You hate that I'm now free and your precious Pharaoh failed you! The thieves have won! I have won! I've said it before… the darkness never dies."
He winced but his grin never faltered when the storm hit him hard, sending him reeling onto his back. With a last choked breath he managed to taunt his Gods one last time.
"Because my fathers and I are owned by the living warmth of the earth through our naked feet, not the Gods."